


the one you say you love is just the one you most mistrust

by kittysorceress



Series: In which Ariana Dumbledore does not die during the duel [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternative Universe - Ariana lives, Grindeldore Valentine's Day Exchange 2020, M/M, Redemption, Summer of 1899
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-02-23 14:23:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23079556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittysorceress/pseuds/kittysorceress
Summary: Ariana lives, but Gellert still leaves Godric's Hollow without Albus.Fourteen years later, Albus and Gellert meet again.
Relationships: Albus Dumbledore/Gellert Grindelwald
Series: In which Ariana Dumbledore does not die during the duel [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1983532
Comments: 4
Kudos: 67





	the one you say you love is just the one you most mistrust

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vandrerska](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vandrerska/gifts).



> This is a (very belated, due to myriad personal reasons) Valentines exchange gift for Vandrerska, who gave the prompt ‘Surprise me!’ So, this is a surprise in two parts…
> 
> Firstly, this is a short story pondering an alternative ending to the summer of 1899 and a different pathway for Albus and Gellert’s relationship after the ‘break up’.
> 
> Secondly, a playlist of songs (in the notes at the end) which express all of the emotions and thoughts around love lost, love found again, belonging and the kind of ‘only you for me’ feelings that I ascribe so strongly to Grindeldore. But, as a particular challenge or a treat, whichever way you might like to look at it, I’ve only used songs performed by Australian female pop/rock/indie performers.
> 
> The title of this fic is a lyric from Dangerous by frente!, the very first song in the playlist.

The girl’s figured crumpled to the floor.

‘Ariana! No!’

All at once the bright flashes of curses ceased at the sound of Albus’ cry.

Gellert stood frozen, wand falling from his limp hand as the brothers rushed to their sister's side.

It was never meant to come to this.

‘Oh Merlin… no… Ariana… stay with me…’ Albus drew his sister to his chest, tears running down his cheeks. ‘Ariana… keep breathing… keep breathing for me…’

Aberforth turned toward Gellert, the fury that had been plain on his face barely a minute before now paled to panic as he cried, ‘Don’t just stand there, you idiot! Get help!’

And so he had.

And so the St Mungo’s mediwitches came and took Ariana away. Barely alive. Saved.

But Albus would not meet his eye.

When Gellert had apparated into his room that evening, the same as so many nights before that summer, he knew that things would never be the same again.

The attic bedroom was in disarray, but not in that learned and lived-in way of which Albus was so fond. Instead, suitcases and chests were wide open and clothes and books spread across the room as their owner methodically returned them to their shelves and drawers.

‘Don’t say anything, Gellert,’ he said, not turning from his task, though his hands stilled. ‘Don’t ask me to reconsider.’

‘ _Mein Leibling_ …’

‘Don’t _,_ ’ he replied sharply. ‘My sister is now in the one place my mother never wanted her to be, in the hands of people we don’t know and who don’t know her. And it’s all our fault. We were stupid and idealistic, and I put our ambitions above the very thing that should mean more to me than anything in the world. My family.’

Gellert felt his heart twist. ‘Albus, _you_ mean more to me than anything in the world. I love you.’

Albus took in a deep breath and turned to Gellert, his eyes rimmed red with tears that had not ceased. ‘I love you too. But I can’t leave with you. Not now. Not after this.’

With this, he reached into his pocket and drew out a familiar pendant, which he placed on a small pile of books and papers the desk beside him. Ones Gellert recognised as his own.

‘These are your things,’ Albus said, his tone strangely dismissive, tight with emotion. ‘I have to be at St Mungo’s before the shift changeover, to speak with the mediwizard on the ward. When I come back tonight, I don’t want to see you again.’

And with that, Albus pushed past Gellert and out of the door.

And they did not see each other again.

At least, not for a long while.

* * *

In those first months that followed his departure from England, Gellert found himself listless. As he travelled from place to place, seeking more knowledge of the Hallows, he found his passion to pursue them dwindle little by little. Somehow, without having Albus by his side, something of the thrill of chase had been lost.

He tried, as he combed through the library of a French chateau owned by an aged Malfoy gentleman, not to think of poor Ariana laying in a pool of her own blood as the mediwitches tried to revive her.

Hiking through the Alps in search of the ruins of the village where it was rumoured that invisibility cloaks had once been woven and sold in great numbers, he ran through the fight with Aberforth over and over again in his imagination. He wondered how he could have stopped it from escalating as it did, how he might have convinced the younger man that what he and Albus were planning was right.

He thought about his own protestations of the inferiority of muggles, of those with lesser magics, of the need to subjugate and to control, of the righteousness of his own might, of his superiority. And the more he dwelled upon it, and on Albus’s dismissal of him on that last night, he found it harder and harder to convince himself that it was the truth.

Finally, at Christmastime in Munich, when a seventh owl returned with a seventh pleading letter to Albus unwanted, unopened and unread, Gellert found peace with his own guilt in the matter.

As he walked through the markets in the snow, watching the happy muggles going about their last minute shopping and singing their carols arm in arm with their loved ones, he felt a great shame in the thoughts he might have had once. At the violence he had wished upon them. At the hatred he had let grow in his heart.

A hatred that had been replaced by a tragic, lonely and longing ache of lost love.

Before the New Year, he had returned to Austria and turned himself over to the authorities, ready to face whatever punishment he deserved for the cruelties he had enacted upon the muggles in his home village before his escape to Godric’s Hollow. And while a small part of him hoped beyond hope that this might be enough, one day, to win his way back into Albus’ favour, he tried not to think over it too long.

* * *

It was a cold, wet February day in 1913 when Gellert returned to England. A little older, a little wiser, repentant and a more humble man at 30 years old than he had been at 16.

He had dreaded the thought of coming back to the place where all his dreams had been built up so mightily only to crash down around him with the shock of responsibility and reality, to a place where he might be confronted with those demons he had tried to put behind him.

Most of all, he dreaded the thought that he might have to face Albus again. Or Aberforth. Or worse, poor little Ariana… though he was unsure what had become of her now. His aunt’s letters had grown shorter on the facts of the Dumbledore family through the years, avoiding his queries in such a careful and studied way that he couldn’t help but assume it was by instruction rather than by any misplaced kindness on her part.

He counted himself at least unlikely to encounter his erstwhile lover in London. He knew enough of Albus to know that he was teaching the next generation of young witches and wizards cloistered away behind Hogwarts’ castle walls in far off Scotland.

And so, it was with total panic that he felt his heart stop as a familiar voice called to him as he exited the Ministry of Magic’s international border office.

‘Herr Grindelwald, as I live and breathe. The last person I ever expected to see having his papers checked by Ministry officials!’ came the hearty laugh of Albus Dumbledore from across the corridor.

Gellert turned on his heel, schooling his features not to betray the emotions coursing through him, and faced the man he had not seen in almost half his lifetime.

The Albus who was walking towards him was at once so much the young man he had been then – cheerful, bright-eyed, tall and with an unmistakable quick step – as he was the professor now. He had grown into his adulthood handsomely; broader across the shoulders, as far as could be told from the flowing sapphire blue robes, and his hair longer and his beard more than the wispy thing it had been in 1899. And as he drew closer, Gellert could see the sides of his eyes crinkling slightly as he…

Smiled.

Albus was smiling at Gellert, who could do nothing but return the smile uneasily as he nodded in greeting.

Gellert had a thought to hold his hand out, to shake or to clasp or whatever else might be right in such a circumstance, but he could feel a tremor of panic running through him, so he instead opted to hold onto his suitcase tightly in his left hand and his right firmly by his side.

‘Professor Dumbledore. I had not thought you would be so far south on a school day.’

Albus laughed again. It was a sound Gellert had not realised he had missed so much until that moment.

‘Ah yes, but Professor Black had some very important documents that needed personal delivery and, as I am the youngest in the faculty, it is my lot to be errand boy,’ he made a silly little stage-actors’ curtsy. ‘And what brings you to England’s green and pleasant land?’

‘Wandlore,’ Gellert said shortly, his gaze turned slightly to the ground. ‘Gervaise Ollivander and his wife have invited me to stay a fortnight while I observe his practices and go through some of the family’s library.’

‘You’re not still…’ Albus’ voice was suddenly quiet, stern, but Gellert, cheeks coloured with embarrassment, stopped him.

‘No.. no… not any of that.’

There, in a corridor of the Ministry of Magic, two of the greatest wizards of their time, each equalled only by the other, stood in awkward silence. Memories of their summer and the Hallows and all that they had shared and dreamed of hung heavy in the air between them.

After a moment that could have been a few seconds or could have been minutes, Albus took a deep breath and broke the silence. ‘So, what then?’

‘I’m writing a chapter for my Aunt on the history of wands and wandless magic across the wizarding world. I’m here until I get what I need, and then I’ll move on to visit my contacts in Canada, then south to New York, then Brazil.’

‘Quite the adventure,’ Albus replied wistfully. ‘I’m most envious.’

‘Did you ever get to…?’

‘Oh, no. Not after all that happened. Well, we got as far as the seaside for Ariana’s seventeenth birthday, but it was only Brighton so I hardly think that counts.’

Gellert could hear a familiar bitterness in Albus’ tone and all at one, his heart ached for that young man who had so longed for adventure, who had dreaded a future tied to family and to home. He wondered just what had happened in the years that had passed since they had seen each other last. He wondered if Albus was happy – he was a professor after all, clearly no longer holed up in Godric’s Hollow, and his sister had clearly gone out in public – and he wanted to ask, though he might have lost the right to such a question some years past.

Instead, he settled for a jovial, ‘I don’t know about that. I hear Brighton is quite the destination. Sandcastles, fish and chips, ice cream. You don’t get that just anywhere.’

It was the right thing to say, the friendly smile returning to Albus’ face as he chuckled at Gellert’s wit. Almost as it had once been, although it wasn’t.

The years still hung between them. So many things unsaid. Regrets, apologies. And still, that ache of a deeper connection.

A clock chimed behind them and Albus jumped, pulling a pocket watch from the folds of his robe and putting it back again hastily. ‘Merlin, is that the time? I really need to be going, I have second-year Defence Against the Dark Arts in half an hour.’ He looked a little sadly at Gellert. ‘Just two weeks you’re here, did you say?’

‘And then Canada,’ Gellert nodded.

‘And then Canada,’ Albus repeated dazedly, bringing a hand to his temple as he appeared to think something through. Then, at once, he snapped his fingers and cried out, ‘Friday! What are you doing Friday?’

Gellert looked at him, stunned. ‘Friday? Research, I’d say, most of the day.’

‘Would you be available for dinner?’

‘Dinner? With you?’

‘No, with the Minister for Magic,’ Albus deadpanned, then laughed again before continuing earnestly, ‘Of course with me, Gellert. I would like to hear about your travels and your work.’

‘I would like that too,’ Gellert smiled properly now. ‘And maybe you could share your stories of Hogwarts. And of Brighton?’

‘Absolutely,’ replied Albus. And then, almost uncharacteristically shy, he continued softly, ‘Most of all, if you would at all be willing, I should very dearly like to make your acquaintance again. I think we got off to quite a rough start all those years ago, and I would like to try again. Perhaps we could even learn to be friends once again?’

Gellert's heart soared with hope, with all the love it had tried so hard to put aside for years, with all the promises contained within the pact he still wore each day over his heart.

‘My dear Albus, I would like that very much indeed.’

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this! If there is interest, I have a mind to write the dinner date... did you know that Valentines day was on a Friday in 1913?
> 
> The accompanying playlist is [available on Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4Z3Byp8ixV2SvtflCD3RSA?si=C0LxxT83SaWAW602dBLgRQ) or on via the Youtube links below
> 
> [Dangerous by frente!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dlw1BJe4PAQ)  
> [Life by Montaigne](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-h6vObTx3dA)  
> [I’ll Change Your Mind by Kate Miller-Heidke](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xaABOA_CI0Q)  
> [I Believe You Liar by Washington](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sQlj__U0404)  
> [Bring Me Back by Seeker Lover Keeper](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YEA0vg3NmUU)  
> [Making a Fire by Holly Throsby](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c1lpsu-PRyA)  
> [The Special Two by Missy Higgins](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sz4nwnv6XG0)  
> [Under My Skin by Deborah Conway](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=etfs--ckTNk)  
> [Leads Me Back by Sarah Blasko](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xSZ6M8FjA0g)


End file.
